Peace During Mass
Posted by Arwen Mosher in Family on Monday, February 08, 2010 11:42 PM
Some Sundays, Mass goes well. Some Sundays, not so much.
I’m sure we’re not the only family this happens to, right?
This past Sunday was challenging. Blaise needed a diaper change just as we were walking in the door. Bryan missed the processional while he was taking care of that. We forgot to bring Camilla’s little Bible and Mass books, plus we were at my parents’ parish and they don’t have a Liturgy of the Word for children like ours does, so she was antsy. Three minutes in, the Mass was already off to a rough start.
I used to struggle most with all the grace I felt I was missing during Mass when I was distracted by my children, but slowly I am learning that God will not be limited. I really believe that whatever grace I miss because I’m putting a shoe back on during the homily, He generously replaces because replacing that small shoe is part of my vocation, part of his call for me.
So these days, my biggest challenge during Mass is keeping my children from distracting those around us. My husband and I try very hard, and tend to err in favor of taking a child out of the sanctuary if he’s creating any kind of disturbance, but the worry that other people are upset that we’ve got our children there is often a source of stress for me. Not so much so at our very family-friendly parish, but very much so when we’re visiting other parishes.
On Sunday, Bryan returned from the diaper change and handed the baby over to me as our curly-headed barnacle of a daughter clung to his leg. Blaise did somersaults in my arms until I figured out that he wanted to take his shoes off. He loves to chew their velcro straps, so I figured he’d do that, but instead he held one in each hand and clapped their leather soles together. The shoes are soft but the sound was hard, and it sounded loud to my sensitive ears, the tips of which were (I’m sure) bright red.
A mother was sitting in the pew ahead of us with her preteen daughter, and they were sharing a hymnal during the responsorial psalm, paying attention to the readings. I was sure they could not be appreciating the commotion going on behind them. Then we stood up for the Gospel, and as I hefted Blaise onto my hip, he dropped - no, threw - one of his shoes onto the floor by the feet of the mother in front of us. It was well out of my reach. I sighed and resigned myself to retrieving it after Mass.
Then as we sat down for the homily, the kind lady picked up the shoe and turned around to hand it to me… with a smile. A big smile, one that said I get it. I breathed another sigh, of relief this time. Later at the sign of the peace, she squeezed my hand and said, “Your children are beautiful.” I thanked her harriedly as I juggled my baby, and she smiled again. “You might not believe it now, but you will miss these days.”
She hugged her daughter, who seemed impossibly grown up to me. I can’t imagine my children ever being that big, but I know they will be. She’s right.
I sat down and rubbed my cheek against my baby’s soft hair and thought Thank you, Lord, for these days. And thank you for giving me your grace at all times. And thank you, today, for soothing my stress with this perfect reminder.
Even when I am not paying attention, He is so good to me.
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